Rosie Wilson (
forthsofar) wrote2019-10-19 06:39 pm
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the cushy sheltered way of life was really no fun
She's kept quiet about it. Not because of any worry or concern, not because she feels as though she's done anything wrong--indeed, in a way this feels the furthest thing from incorrect. There's just been a lot to think about, thoughts and feelings and needs that she's been turning over in her head and trying to parse out on her own before she brings them up with either Nick or Sabrina. She'll need to, because they're the cause of it all, the ones that sparked that odd blossoming warmth within her as they asked questions that held just the barest edge of command behind them.
It could be that she's understanding it all wrong, her relative inexperience turning words murmured in the heat of passion into something that feels more weighty than it is. But somehow, she doesn't think so. Whether she's misunderstood or not, though, Rosie wants to be sure of herself, and sure of what she wants. As she'd been told before, so many times, that's the only way this works.
After a few days of thought, she's ready to open the conversation, and given that they already had plans this afternoon, Nick seems the perfect person to start with. Settled on his couch and entwined under a blanket, they watch--well, mostly--the season premiere of that awful witch show Nick had fallen in love with during his convalescence, the both of them laughing and shouting things at the screen. Once it's over, Rosie reaches for the remote control, clicking the television off.
"Nick," she says softly, a flutter of uncertainty starting up in the pit of her stomach, something she tries to ignore. She turns in his arms until she can press a kiss to his mouth. "Could I...there's something I wanted to talk to you about." Realizing how that might sound only once it's out, her eyes widen, just slightly. "Something...I think it's something good, I promise."
It could be that she's understanding it all wrong, her relative inexperience turning words murmured in the heat of passion into something that feels more weighty than it is. But somehow, she doesn't think so. Whether she's misunderstood or not, though, Rosie wants to be sure of herself, and sure of what she wants. As she'd been told before, so many times, that's the only way this works.
After a few days of thought, she's ready to open the conversation, and given that they already had plans this afternoon, Nick seems the perfect person to start with. Settled on his couch and entwined under a blanket, they watch--well, mostly--the season premiere of that awful witch show Nick had fallen in love with during his convalescence, the both of them laughing and shouting things at the screen. Once it's over, Rosie reaches for the remote control, clicking the television off.
"Nick," she says softly, a flutter of uncertainty starting up in the pit of her stomach, something she tries to ignore. She turns in his arms until she can press a kiss to his mouth. "Could I...there's something I wanted to talk to you about." Realizing how that might sound only once it's out, her eyes widen, just slightly. "Something...I think it's something good, I promise."
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"So you'd rather I held you down rather than tie you?" He asks, running a proprietary hand along her bare thigh under the blanket.
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Rosie pauses again, taking stock, knowing that answer is too vague for a situation that demands as much clarity as she can provide at the outset. "Tie me up, this time. We can try you holding me down another day. If that's something you want too, of course."
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She might not catch it, but Nick definitely notices. His hand slips around to her ass, squeezing, the other still pushed into her hair.
"Tied down. Blindfolded." He grins, sharply. "Sounds perfect."
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"And you want me to play with you, don't you?" he says, still squeezing her ass. "You want me to push you and play with me and use you, don't you? Say it."
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Rosie stops, swallowing hard, wrestling a little with the choice in a way that adds to the ache already building within her. "And to be used, Nick. I want you to play with me and use me, h-however you want."
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"But first you want me to tie you up," he says, grinning down at her, leaning to take a kiss. "How do you want to be tied up, Rosie?"
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The how of it gives her pause, and she glances around as much as she can with how he's holding her, his fingers still tight in her hair. "Hands above my head," she suggests. "Tied to the headboard, maybe, while I'm lying on my back? Though I'd have to be good the entire time for you, positioned like that, since..." Another pause, as her face gets a few degrees warmer. "Since you couldn't spank me that easily, maybe."
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"You're assuming that it's only your ass I'm going to spank, Wilson," he says, reaching for the blindfold again and unceremoniously slipping it over her eyes before he gets off the bed, going to the drawer where he keeps the toys that he and Sabrina bought.
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The bed jostles a little as Nick gets up. When she hears the sound of some drawer opening and closing a little further away, her stomach flips in uncertain anticipation.
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"You'll have to wait and see, won't you?" says Nick, grabbing a pair of restraints out of the drawer and moving back over to the bed. He shifts Rosie where he wants her, on her back on the bed, arms up over her head, fastening one wrist and then the other to the bedframe. She's still draped in the blanket, and he leaves it like that for a moment.
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His hands are just as firm and insistent as before, moving her into place. Still a little pliant after having come so hard, Rosie moves easily, even obediently, and once the restraints are locked around her wrists and attached to the bedframe, she pulls at them, the motion half struggle, half curiosity.
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Once he's got her settled, he reaches up and tweaks one of her nipples.
"Remember what I told you about that tone, Rosie. Unless you're angling for a spanking already?"
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"We'll see how long you can keep them up for," he says, slapping the back of her thigh. "Spread your legs, Rosie. You know what I want to see."
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With that--and still blushing hard, as always--she slides her legs apart, wide enough to expose her flushed and still-slick cunt.
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"That's it," says Nick, grinning down at her, knowing that she can't see him. "That's how I expect them to stay, unless I tell you otherwise. Understood?"
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She has no idea when that will be, where he is, what he's even doing or planning to do with her, and it makes her dizzy with a wanton sort of apprehension. It's so perfect.
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"I think I might play with pain a little bit, Rosie," he says. "See what you like, what you don't. Remind you who you belong to, right now." He bends his head and licks a stripe along her exposed cunt.
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She lets the recitation, the reminder of the ways in which she can slow or stop or encourage whatever they end up doing, ease her a little further into the situation.
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"That's right, babe," he says, staying sprawled where he was for a moment, licking at her, holding her spread with his fingers. "You taste amazing, Wilson."
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"St-still feels strange to say thank you to something like that, Nick," she gasps. "But I'm...it's good you think so."
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"I can feel how wet you are, Rosie," he says, pressing his finger into her, starting to fuck her with it. "I know how into this you are. How much you like being tied down like this."
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Rosie whimpers, her hips starting to rock in time with the thrust of Nick's finger. "Because...because I'm yours."
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He presses another finger into her, fucking her smoothly with them, kissing her belly with slick lips.
"Imagine doing this with me and Sabrina," he says. "Imagine us both here with you."
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